The Kellys and the O'Kellys eBook

Her thin face had become thinner, and was very pale;
her head had been shaved close, and there was nothing
between the broad white border of her nightcap and
her clammy brow and wan cheek. But illness was
more becoming to Anty than health; it gave her a melancholy
and beautiful expression of resignation, which, under
ordinary circumstances, was wanting to her features,
though not to her character. Her eyes were brighter
than they usually were, and her complexion was clear,
colourless, and transparent. I do not mean to
say that Anty in her illness was beautiful, but she
was no longer plain; and even to the young Kellys,
whose feelings and sympathies cannot be supposed to
have been of the highest order, she became an object
of the most intense interest, and the warmest affection.

“Well, doctor,” she said, as Doctor Colligan
crept into her room, after the termination of his
embassy to Barry; “will he come?”

“Oh, of course he will; why wouldn’t he,
and you wishing it? He’ll be here in an
hour, Miss Lynch. He wasn’t just ready to
come over with me.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Anty, who
felt that she had to collect her thoughts before she
saw him; and then, after a moment, she added, “Can’t
I take my medicine now, doctor?”

“Just before he comes you’d better have
it, I think. One of the girls will step up and
give it you when he’s below. He’ll
want to speak a word or so to Mrs Kelly before he
comes up.”

“Spake to me, docthor!” said the widow,
alarmed. “What’ll he be spaking to
me about? Faix, I had spaking enough with him
last time he was here.”

“You’d better just see him, Mrs Kelly,”
whispered the, doctor. “You’ll find
him quiet enough, now; just take him fair and asy;
keep him downstairs a moment, while Jane gives her
the medicine. She’d better take it just
before he goes to her, and don’t let him stay
long, whatever you do. I’ll be back before
the evening’s over; not that I think that she’ll
want me to see her, but I’ll just drop in.”

“Are you going, doctor?” said Anty, as
he stepped up to the bed. He told her he was.
“You’ve told Mrs Kelly, haven’t you,
that I’m to see Barry alone?”

“Why, I didn’t say so,” said the
doctor, looking at the widow; “but I suppose
there’ll be no harm—­eh, Mrs Kelly?”

“But you won’t keep him here long, Miss
Lynch—­eh? And you won’t excite
yourself?—­indeed, you mustn’t.
You’ll allow them fifteen minutes, Mrs Kelly,
not more, and then you’ll come up;” and
with these cautions, the doctor withdrew.

“I wish he was come and gone,” said the
widow to her elder daughter. “Well; av
I’d known all what was to follow, I’d niver
have got out of my warm bed to go and fetch Anty Lynch
down here that cowld morning! Well, I’ll
be wise another time. Live and larn they say,
and it’s thrue, too.”